On Love

I want you to go all the way
To Venus, and beyond, with me.
Though earthly Heaven is a bed
Of roses, doves, and honeybees,
It does not matter where we choose
To overtake eternity.


Of all the things that Nature gives,
That man has no permit to make,
Love turns the screws of time the best
And causes fleshly souls to break;
It causes scholar boys to dream
And vestal maids their truths forsake.